


Action

by Cesare



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Exhibitionism, Humiliation, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Porn, Porn Video, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-11
Updated: 2010-05-11
Packaged: 2017-10-14 16:29:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/151240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cesare/pseuds/Cesare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney starts everything up, and the two of them settle onto the bed together. They talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Action

Rodney doesn't quite understand it all, but it's what John wants, so he does it. It's not like him to be so accommodating for the sake of another person's particular desire, but when John told him, his words were so halting and painful that even Rodney understood that it was important. And it did sound... intriguing.

He only hesitated to say, "But it's so dangerous for you."

"I know," John said quietly, but even as he looked down at his hands, his skin flushed with color, his eyes darkening.

So it seems like he wants it because of the danger, not despite it. Rodney could find choice words to skewer John's self-destructive streak, but this is the one thing he doesn't target. Well, he did once without thinking about it. But John looked so miserable that Rodney has always remembered since then. It's hard for him to be careful of sore spots, but he works to be gentle about this one.

They have a routine now, for the nights that they have time to do it all. Rodney sets up the equipment. They shower and shave together. Sometimes John wants particular clothes for one or both of them; Rodney balked at wearing a Speedo, but once managed to let John talk him into wearing a jock strap.

Rodney starts everything up, and the two of them settle onto the bed together. It works best with Rodney leaning against pillows at the head, legs open to admit John, who lies back against Rodney's chest. The sight of John's spiky cowlicks close up from above and the smell of John's clean hair have, through positive reinforcement, become surefire turn-ons for Rodney.

They talk.

Rodney: "I think I deserve some rimming."

John: "Okay. Want to bottom, then?"

Rodney: "Either way for that."

John: "Cool. You could pin down my shoulders and fuck me?"

Rodney: "Then let me finger you to start out with, get you nice and messy with lube. I'd like to think about that while you're tonguing me. And then I'll fuck you."

Or.

John: "We could make out a lot to start."

Rodney: "Define the parameters of making out."

John: "Just... kissing and groping. Didn't you ever make out when you were a teenager?"

Rodney: "I had two Bachelors and a Masters by the time I turned twenty. What do you think?"

John: "So let me show you. Bet you'll like it."

Rodney: "Probably a safe bet. How do you want to get off?"

John: "Handjob, blowjob, rubbing off... anything like that."

Rodney: "Okay. I definitely want a blowjob."

John: "Deal."

Or.

Rodney: "Can we improvise?"

John: "Sure. I could fuck you?"

Rodney: "Okay. Improvising, then fucking."

John always goes pink while they decide, but he speaks readily enough, and with a sincerity that Rodney rarely sees in him otherwise. He loves John, but sleeping with him has only confirmed Rodney's suspicion that John is full of shit a lot of the time.

It's okay. On these nights, Rodney gets John without all the noise and interference.

And once the talking's over and they have sex, John's amazing. Strong, supple and shameless, he throws himself into it so wholeheartedly that the first time, Rodney wondered how this could possibly be the same guy as the sauntering, glib jackass who's occasionally Rodney's closest friend.

John isn't just good in bed, he's _artful._

"You have," Rodney says sometimes, "a very, very particular talent."

"Aw shucks," says John into the pillow, because once the afterglow fades he's always back to his usual bullshit. Rodney doesn't know how anyone can complain about _Rodney_ being sarcastic when John's right there, practically every word and action dripping with irony.

Rodney's never ready to give John up to wry detachment again so soon. So once John's over his post-coital cuddly stage and goes back to smirking, Rodney curtails any further crap by going to the foot of the bed and stopping the camera.

"Do you want to watch?" he asks.

John can't be ironic about this, Rodney's learned. John always loses the smirk and says, "Yes."

Rodney separates the camera from the cables and brings his laptop back to bed. His setup is meticulous: the video is processed in real time, uncrackably encrypted before the bits ever hit the data crystal. Only he and John know the password, 1874193819672220.

They settle back into that same position, Rodney reclined against the pillows, John lying back on Rodney's chest, this time with the laptop on his knees. He always asks, "Can you see?"

"Yes," Rodney says. "Fire it up."

John starts the video. There they are, lying just like they are now, naked this particular time. They block out what they're going to do and the order they'll do it in. Video-John has a hand on himself, not really stroking, just there, squeezing his cock at the root now and then. His cheeks and ears redden as they talk. His dog tags catch the light, shining on his chest.

They finish planning and video-Rodney slides his hands under John's arms and smooths down his chest, fingers circling his nipples, while Rodney mouths the crook of John's neck.

Rodney still remembers doing that, exactly how it felt, and now he can see how it looked, how hot it is... his big pale hands spanning John's chest, sliding down to cup John's balls while John throws back his head, sweat breaking out at the hollow of his neck.

Seeing it on the screen, Rodney always feels a strange excitement that's not anything like what he feels when they're actually having sex, or even when he fantasizes or gets himself off alone; this sensation doesn't reach his cock, which is fair enough, it's well out of the game at this point. Instead it's a thrill that reverberates through his chest and stomach, almost like anxiety.

It's like a variation on a theme of panic, one that feels good instead of awful. He even has some of the same panic reactions, his hands going cold, a shaky feeling all over, something almost like nausea clutching in his gut. He slips his arms around John and squeezes, and that stabilizes everything, makes it all crystallize fully into pleasure.

Video-John crouches up so that Rodney can finger him, the shine of lube visible on Rodney's fingers, John's skin. Somehow John manages to make the crouch look poised rather than uncomfortable.

"It's hard to resist fucking you right now," says video-Rodney. "Just pulling you right back onto me, on top so you can do all the work."

"Don't hold back on my account."

"I was promised rimming first."

Video-John shifts to afford him room. "So turn over, then."

Whenever they're watching and the camera's fully on him, Rodney braces himself a little, because surely no one needs to see how silly they look having sex. Especially the first few times they did this, Rodney was leery of viewing the recording.

But it turns out that he almost never feels self-conscious watching. He looks good with John. Maybe that's part of John's particular talent, that he can make not only himself but also Rodney look good on camera. It could also be another manifestation of Rodney's supposedly giant ego. But when he sees himself turn over, ass slightly raised, his thick hairy thighs, he likes it.

He likes it even better that he can see things in the video that he couldn't see at the time: video-John sitting on the edge of the bed, stroking the small of Rodney's back and over his ass, his hand familiar and proprietary, an intent, slightly glazed look on his face. John blinks himself out of his deep focus and shoots a conspiratorial look directly at the camera, an honest grin curving his mouth.

"Ham," Rodney says now, and nibbles John's earlobe, tugging with his teeth.

"Whatever," says John, rapt. "Look at that. You have the best ass."

"I'm not sure anyone else can be said to have the best anything when Ronon Dex is around."

"It's a judgment call, and I'm makin' it. My opinion better be the one that matters, and in my opinion your ass is the best around."

"Okay, okay, I'm persuaded," Rodney says, though it's less because of John's words and more because, son of a bitch, watching video-John half bury his face in Rodney's ass, hearing the sloppy sounds he makes and the eager little hums... it's convincing.

With his usual uncanny sense for what the camera can see, John angles the rest of his body, tilting his hips to expose his cock, showing off how hard he is-- hard and trembling while he works his tongue into Rodney's ass.

Soon video-Rodney cinches fingers at the base of his dick to keep from coming, and John lifts away, half his face gleaming wet.

They rearrange. It looks smooth on camera, as if they practiced it, but really John was subtly positioning them both. Rodney knows him well enough that it takes just a touch here and there to direct him where John wants him to go.

On the screen, they end up at a diagonal before the camera, so Rodney's back and side and partial profile are visible, and so's John's body, though not really his face. Thank goodness for the bigger beds; that position wouldn't be feasible on John's tiny twin-sized cot. Not many positions were.

There's another round of fingering, and video-Rodney uses plenty of lube, letting it run down John's thighs for the visual effect.

Good call, apparently; when John sees it he sucks in a breath and leans back harder against Rodney, his hand tight over Rodney's hand around his waist.

Video-Rodney sinks his cock slowly into John, hands wrapped around John's hips. And okay, maybe he does look a little silly in the video, a struck-dumb expression on his face as he works his cock in and out of John slowly at first, til John's whining and pushing back for it and Rodney bends to pin John's shoulders down and starts to really thrust. But it doesn't matter that he looks silly or that he's wiping sweat out of his eyes, his hair damp with it and looking even thinner. He's driving John to make sounds like _that,_ sounds that Rodney gets to hear all over again now, and it's _so hot._

Rodney tears his eyes away from the video to look at John. As usual by this point, John's ears are red, his color high on his face and down his neck, even over his collarbone.

This is the part Rodney understands less well. But he did it once in the spirit of experimenting with dirty talk, and John's reaction was so dramatic that it was obviously a Thing, so Rodney made it part of their ritual.

"You love this," he says into John's ear. "Don't you."

John's fingers dig into the back of Rodney's hand, and John's eyes slam shut for a moment, his body tensing, his breath indrawn and held, his blush more vivid than ever.

"Yeah," he husks, and then slowly he exhales and relaxes, eyes opening to fix on the screen.

Rodney doesn't get it. Everything about John's reaction says he's painfully embarrassed by the words... but they're usually naked while they watch the recording, and Rodney can see John's cock stir and pulse in that moment. Once or twice John even got hard again after Rodney said it.

In the recording, video-Rodney pulls out and John flips over. It looks choreographed; really, John gestured with his left hand, out of sight of the camera, to let Rodney know he wanted to change position. At this vantage, John's dog tags are just vague hints of silver sliding across his chest. Rodney's back in him almost immediately, his hand flying out to pump a quick splash of lube into his palm, and then he grasps John's erection and slowly strokes, too slowly to get John off.

Video-John sucks air in through his teeth, grunts encouragingly, arches up to push himself through Rodney's hand. Through it all, he keeps his face turned to the camera, his desperation visible in every expression that flits across his face, audible in every gasp and moan.

Cued by another invisible hand gesture, video-Rodney speeds his hand, ramping it up until John's mouth opens in a soft, amazed _oh,_ and then John comes, jerking with it, wracked by it. It's the only moment when he's not graceful for the camera. It almost looks as if he's suffering convulsive shocks.

Video-Rodney waits, jaw visibly clenched, til John's spent. Then he resumes with a gentler glide in and out, smooth and easy for a minute or two, unwilling to jar John yet. Then John regains some sensibility and starts to lift his hips a little to meet Rodney, and Rodney moves more quickly and more forcefully, til he finally reaches around John's splayed thighs to grab his ass and lift him to the perfect position.

John touches the screen, tracing the line of Rodney's arm, the taxed and defined muscles.

It only takes a few seconds after that before video-Rodney comes. Another hand gesture off camera from John reminds him to pull out, so the last couple of spurts shower across John's stomach, already streaked and spotted with John's own come.

Video-Rodney touches the mess, the warm fresh drops and the cooler stripes turning to gel. He pulls out and reaches for the thermos and cloth, set up beforehand along with camera, laptop and lube. He wets the soft cloth with warm water from the thermos and bathes the semen from John's chest and belly, folds it over and swabs away the lube from his thighs and ass. Folds it one more time and gives himself a few swipes with it, cleaning lube from his cock and balls.

Then he moves pliable, blissed-out John into a better position and lies close beside him, and John snuggles up to him right away, arms around him, legs tangled with Rodney's, a warm lax octopus for five minutes or so until he pulls away and lets his limbs drop and untangle, and when video-Rodney says, "You have a very, very particular talent," video-John says, "Aw shucks," into the pillow. Rodney hefts up out of bed and comes toward the camera, and the video ends.

"God," John says, and he sets the laptop on the bedstand and sprawls on top of Rodney, face against Rodney's neck.

Occasionally they're lucky, and they get a second round in after watching the recording. The spirit is often willing, but the flesh is over forty, and it's not so often they have time for one session, let alone two.

Anyway, maybe Rodney is a big sack of sap, but he's satisfied with a second stretch of closeness. He loves holding John like this. He feels trusted.

Even if Rodney hated being recorded, even if he didn't like watching the videos... he might do it all anyway, just for the hour or two he gets to spend with a John who's not deflecting or detached or wrapped too tight to reach out. Sometimes he thinks John tells him more with those hidden hand gestures than John ever says at any other time in their private life.

It's a bonus that being filmed is an interesting challenge that gives him a charge, and watching them together while his arms are tight around John is a powerful thrill that Rodney never even knew about, before.

"I should erase it," Rodney always says after they've watched it; he's found that even if they keep it, they won't watch it again. "It's dangerous to save it."

"So erase it," John murmurs against Rodney's chest. No tensing up, no blush, his ears stay their normal color.

Rodney enters the password again and deletes the file, watching the program write noise over the disk blocks ten times to eradicate all traces, traces which would be unbreakably encrypted anyway; Rodney's taking no chances when it comes to John's safety and his job.

He shuts off the laptop and loops his arms around John again.

"So next time," he says, "three weeks from Thursday?"

A few seconds for John to sharpen again, and call his schedule to mind. "That Wednesday works better."

"All right," Rodney says, and makes a mental note to move some things from that Thursday morning to Friday.

"Think I'm gonna stay," John says. "Okay?"

"Yeah," Rodney says. "Okay."


End file.
